Code Geass: Lazos de Sangre
Chapter Four:
Decision
The party to celebrate the promotion of President Schneizel spread through the Britannia mansion. The scintillation of the air laden with lights and scent was so strong that they were dazzling. Through the wide halls, corridors and lobby, the crowd moved as the orchestra played a Mendelssohn symphony on stage. All the personalities in the field of finance were present; several members from President Charles's party, some ministers, scientists, the occasional representative of the diplomatic corps and people from the world of television.
Euphemia was dressed in an elegant white dress that peeked out to see fine sandals. On the tail of this, flower drawings embroidered with silver silk thread stood out. She wore long earrings and her hair was tied up in a carefree bun that deliberately released a lock, allowing her beautiful naked swan neck to be admired. Her sister was walking beside her, wearing a lilac metallic dress. Euphemia was limited to greeting the guests who were arriving and approaching them, but the truth was that her head was elsewhere. She wondered if Lelouch had appeared. She glanced around the place until she identified a man from behind in a black tuxedo staring intently at a tapestry of the figure of a golden lion. Euphie had a sense of déjà vu. It must be him!
"Are you looking for the lawyer?" Cornelia asked cautiously, debating to herself how to refer to her sister's friend.
"Yes," she admitted, blushing. "I think I see him. Come! I'd love for you to meet him," she exclaimed enthusiastically, holding Cornelia's hand. The woman didn't have the heart to resist. Euphemia dragged her sister with her. "Lelouch!"
The individual turned around when he heard his name and gave them both one of his charming smiles. She hadn't been wrong. It was him. Perhaps, it was because she was used to seeing him in a black suit. Well, she couldn't say that it didn't emphasize his bearing. Only one detail changed: instead of an elegant tie, he wore a bowtie.
"Hello, Euphemia. She must be your sister," he said, turning his head to Cornelia. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Lelouch Lamperouge."
Then he offered her his hand. She shook it. His grip was firm like his gaze. At last, he had the pleasure of meeting the director general of the Britannia Corps in person. Although she didn't have the reputation of being the most beautiful woman in Pendragon, like her sister, she was beautiful. He had a statuesque figure. She may well have been a model. But her expression was so rigid that a reporter could describe it as "carved out of wood." She had the reputation of being a woman of arms to take. Some called her "witch." Regardless of whether it was with the intention of hurting her or not, Cornelia had welcomed the nickname with pride.
"The pleasure is mine," she said sternly. "Cornelia li Britannia, I suppose Euphie must have told you about me as she has told you about us."
"Not very assiduously," he said. He addressed the young Britannia. "Did you really do that?"
The beautiful and bewildered Euphemia didn't know where to look. There was some reason in her words.
"A little too much, maybe," she stammered.
"Euphie, I've to go to receive more people. You can stay with Lawyer Lamperouge and make his stay enjoyable," Cornelia announced suddenly, knowing that was her sister's wish. "I hope you enjoy the party," she added to Lelouch.
Once done she withdrew. Her stilettos strongly emphasized her steps. Euphemia's gaze met Lelouch's who had had the same intention. Her smile broadened, amused by the timing of their movements.
"Did you like this tapestry?" You were staring at it right before we interrupted you.
They both glanced at the tapestry behind them.
"It's sublime. Exploring the house it was unavoidable to repair how many representations of the lion there are," he replied. "Statues, tapestries, rugs. Even in a vase!"
"Yes, Dad bought them. It's his favorite animal," Euphemia agreed.
"No," he disagreed gently. "It's more than that. The lion is the crest of your family. I'm sure I saw it around here...".
Lelouch walked quickly past that wall full of paintings from beginning to end. Euphemia followed him without quite understanding what he was doing. It was before a photographic portrait that he stopped. He was from the current Britannia family. The central figure was the patriarch seated in a purple Chester chair and staring at the viewer with his sunken, tiny eyes. The silver mane falling to his shoulders and the broad nose gave him the appearance of an old lion. Euphemia was lovingly hugging him from behind from the left. She was the only one smiling. Cornelia was standing next to him, watching his back. On the right flank was a heavyset man with brown hair and beard, about whom Lelouch hardly had any information. And a little further from the rest was the honoree of the night. It seems that the family was in the study. In the background, behind the wooden desk, hung the coat of arms of the Britannia in which a lion and a serpent faced each other in a deadly dance. It must have been an old portrait because Euphemia looked to be sixteen years old.
"Do you want to hear an irony? I don't like my photos, but family portraits have a charm," Euphemia commented.
"Who is he?" Lelouch asked without taking his eyes off the big man.
"My older brother: Odysseus. He would have been the heir to Britannia Corps if he had had a tougher body. I hope he's resting wherever he is," she whispered, her head down. "He died a year after we took this photo. His departure devastated us all, but more to Dad. He lost it the same way he lost his brother," she explained as she felt the words melt in her mouth.
"Did President Charles have a brother?" He asked, turning to Euphemia.
"A twin," she confirmed, looking back at him. "They were super close. Well, it could be that special connection between twins. He had the same illness as my brother and he passed away. He has a photo too! Would you like to meet him?"
Euphemia made an effort to smile at him, despite the wave of sadness that washed over her at the thought. Without waiting for an answer, she resumed her march. Now it was Lelouch who was following her. The photo was near the end of that wall of photographic portraits. He never wondered what Charles would look like as a child. He could already get an idea. The twin was a little boy with a button nose, thin eyebrows, pale skin and blond, like his nephew, Schneizel. Actually, Lelouch did have some knowledge of Charles's brother. It was said that he was a prodigy for his age and that he had a penchant for the area of science. His only obstacle, the one he couldn't overcome, was that rare disease that a Britannia inherits every generation.
"I see that President Charles is a home man. That's really good: it means that he lives his motto," Lelouch observed, "and I also perceive that he is a great collector."
"He has other hobbies," Euphemia agreed. She longed to extend the talk as long as she could. "Art, literature, research ..."
"Research?"
"Sometimes he's locked up in his study for hours or days when a topic attracts his interest," she clarified. She hesitated for a few seconds before continuing. "Dad became obsessed, once, with immortality. He founded a commission in which he recruited our best scientists to carry out the research, but the results were nil. As expected. If you analyze it, his intentions weren't bad. I don't think he wanted to lose any more loved ones. Fortunately, he surrenders to the evidence avoiding further disappointment." She sighed, hugging herself. Lelouch sensed her genuine concern.
"It's understandable: fear of death is a natural reaction and man has tried to overcome his fear by overcoming his mortality. The artists discovered a way to endure through the years with the works that they bequeathed to posterity," Lelouch said, accompanying his comment with a gesture.
"Yes, but that's because when we see a painting or read a book, we remember them. It's the same with the family. Neither my uncle nor my brother is with us; however, their memory remains alive in me. I feel that they are still here. Isn't that what you feel with your mother?" She asked. This time it was the lawyer who fell silent, engrossed. It was true that memories were the best way to prolong a person's life. "Why do we complicate ourselves fighting against our nature? Isn't it death that makes us human? We should accept it, I think." Euphemia cleared her throat, fearing she had hit a sensitive key when talking about her mother. She changed the subject. "You must want to meet him! I'll introduce him to you as soon as we get the chance."
"I admit it. There's so much people talking about him and so little is known that I'm curious, but I came for you and I would like to invest every minute of my time with you," he said, smiling. Young Britannia's cheekbones turned red and her lips twisted into a smile. "You've never been so beautiful," he added. With each compliment, it was finding it difficult to meet the lawyer's gaze. Then a silence enveloped them that made the woman's heart beat faster. "I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I'm out of compliments."
Euphemia covered her mouth with a giggle.
"It's okay. It doesn't matter," she said, giving him a friendly nudge. Lelouch winced, unprepared by the movement, causing him to laugh more. He could no longer hide. "And?"
"Well, we're at a party. It seems to me that this would be the correct way to proceed ..."
Lelouch stretched out his arm gently. Euphemia clung to him willingly. "If I could make her laugh," thought the lawyer, "what can't I do later?"
Kallen finished getting ready in front of the mirror in her room. After spending hours browsing the shops in the center of Pendragon and trying on various dresses, she chose a black one with a side slit that showed her right leg and a sweetheart neckline adorned by asymmetrical layers of tulle that fell from the chest. The dress revealed the middle of her back and clung to her narrow waist, marking her slender and curvy silhouette. She had her doubts about it. Kallen thought the suit was too revealing. However, the opinion of the shop assistants and other buyers led her to pay in cash for it. Right there she had to say goodbye to two fortnights of her salary. Finally, a bracelet was placed as the only accessory; a half braid was made from the bangs to the back and fastened with a barrette. A different look than usual, she thought. Although her makeup was neutral, the eyeliner deepened her gaze. She looked fierce and glamorous. She was ready, even though she felt incomplete. She took out a red brooch that belonged to her mother and put it on her chest. She wasn't sure whether to wear it until someone knocked on the door and put it on. Maybe because she remembered that she didn't have the whole night to discuss it, maybe because she thought it was stupid to dwell on it too much. Who knows?
"¿Kallen?"
"Come in".
Ohgi opened the door.
"Kallen, excuse me, the person you are waiting for is already…"
He couldn't finish the sentence as soon as she turned around. When his best friend, Naoto, disappeared overnight, Kallen was a girl, a very restless and happy one, so he had been taking care of her. To Ohgi, she was his affectionate sister. At which point had she become a beautiful woman?
"Is Suzaku here?" She asked at Ohgi's silence. He patted the back of his neck, racking his brains to praise her, but his mind was blank. He was just babbling. Wearily, Kallen put a hand on her hip. "Well, don't say anything. I'll go see," she growled.
Suzaku was waiting inside the pizzeria. He was wearing an unusual white tuxedo. He heard the footsteps of someone coming down the stairs. He deduced it was Kallen. He turned around. Suzaku's jaw dropped at the sight of her. If Ohgi spoke in a confused and unintelligible way, Suzaku was worse: he could barely articulate monosyllables.
"Kallen? ... You ... Look ... You look ... Uhm!"
The words struggled to leave his lips and they failed. Kallen raised an impatient brow. Suzaku thought he must look like a fool, so he forced a cough.
"Are you guys eight years old or what? How hard is it to say, "hey Kallen, you look good"?" She reproached them uncomfortably. "And shut your mouth, Suzaku: you look stupid. We better get going or I'm going to get mad."
The redhead crossed the threshold of the establishment at the speed of a bullet, leaving Ohgi and Suzaku embarrassed. The prosecutor shook his head back to reality and caught up with Kallen outside. They would go in his sports car. It wasn't a float, but it was better than a motorcycle to attend an elite party.
As soon as they arrived, they caught several glances. Kallen got the unpleasant impression that they were expected. Even if she had been to other parties, none of them resembled what she was seeing. The shine, the perfume, the rumor, she couldn't decide which was more sparkling: the jeweled hands of the ladies or the medals of the military or the generous light that the chandelier shed on his bare shoulders and necks and the sweaty faces of the waiters who came and went among the guests offering them to drink and to eat. The flowers spread their rich aroma positioned in lovely centerpieces. Kallen felt dizzy as she inhaled them and had to cling tightly to her partner's arm, almost digging her nails into him. But why was she nervous? Why was she walking timidly and with her neck bowed as if she were looking for where her eyes fell? She had done nothing wrong and it was ridiculous to be afraid of these people! Kallen regained her composure by straightening and raising her forehead without focusing her gaze on a particular point, as if no one was worthy of her attention. The new posture she assumed favored the flowing fabric of the dress with each step. She felt like she was floating.
Suzaku was another who needed to hold onto someone. He didn't know anyone, but they did know him. They were forced to stop numerous times because they came to approach them to have the privilege of exchanging a few words with him and meeting his beautiful companion, with the excuse of congratulating him (the award was last week and he felt that it had happened yesterday). He hadn't been as aware of his popularity as he was at that moment. Against all odds, Suzaku handled himself with ease and gentleness.
Strangely, they had the feeling of being supported by each other's presence.
To maintain order, the Britannia had assigned their guests tables. Suzaku and Kallen must have shared theirs with an unknown couple. Suddenly, a blonde girl with long pigtails approached Suzaku.
"Here, Mr. Prosecutor!" She smiled, handing him a drawing, made by her, of himself. "Keep defending our city, please!"
"Thank you," he replied, bemused, accepting the gift.
He looked up. The little girl's family was sitting about four tables away. They sent him a cordial wave. Suzaku recognized his grandfather. He was the president of the Supreme Court of Justice. Last year, his son had been murdered and Suzaku had been the designated prosecutor in the case. Needless to say, he obtained a guilty verdict for the person responsible. The girl bounced off happily and Suzaku glanced at Kallen not knowing what to say. The redhead's mouth loosened a half smile. It was indisputable that even the children adored him. He was the hero of Pendragon.
The ceremony began then. A gust of wind passed through the room followed by a murmur: it was Charles zi Britannia, who was present. The guests were paralyzed by shock as the president made his way to the stage. The orchestra began to play at a low volume a pompous melody with which everyone was very well acquainted, to accompany his passage. The cold took place. He was identical to his image in the portrait: noble features and pale face. His square jaw rose proudly, so that the beautiful line between his ear and his chin stood out bold and strong. Without a doubt, the president had a stately demeanor. His wide lips curved in an ambiguous smile that tried to alleviate the effect it had caused and a hint of cruel melancholy flashed in his purple eyes. Only on the neck did the skin fold into thousands of wrinkles, revealing his age. When President Charles stood behind the podium and began his speech, everyone looked at him and listened to him without daring to make the slightest noise, as if he were some kind of evil, dangerous and ruthless divinity summoned by greedy, selfish mortals, cowards and vicious with pleasure.
Kallen was watching him carefully, but she wasn't listening to his words. How many times had she killed him in her dreams? Shot at point-blank range, beaten to death, stabbed, drowned, cremated, buried alive and none of that made her feel better: he was there and his brother ... The redhead bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out helplessly.
"This merger with the Siegfried Group, which we're celebrating today, is one more success that adds Britannia Corps to our goal of achieving a better future. This wouldn't have been possible without the skill and insight of one man: President Schneizel, come closer," he indicated. The aforementioned, who had sat in one of the chairs to the left of the podium, stood up and advanced. With a restrained, elegantly rigid posture, Charles greeted his son with timid applause. "I've run this company for forty years. Caring for it until the very day I could leave it. That day has finally come: it's today. Schneizel," President Charles said. "Each day that passes is a step toward my death. As of today, the fate of the company is assured in your hands: you're ready. Don't forget, my son, that when you die you won't take wealth or fame to the grave. Those things don't last. In the end, you only have the last name and your actions will always be remembered through it," he declared. There was a long pause and he turned away. "Congratulations, President Schneizel!"
President Charles applauded him. The enthusiasm grew as more vibrant cheers and jubilant applause joined the audience as they stood from their seats cheering "Long live!" or a "Bravo!" The president's cruel features softened as he gave an oddly restrained smile, as if he didn't want to express happiness, modesty perhaps? Only two attendees hadn't been carried away by the fervor: Kallen, who wasn't even applauding, and Lelouch, sitting at the end of the room, whose applause was colder and more phlegmatic than the rest. Suzaku's applause was sparing, right on.
Suzaku thought about going to congratulate President Schneizel. Considering that he personally went to invite them to his party, it would be rude not to. Kallen knew there was no use running away from this encounter. They waited for the crowd around the honoree to dissolve and they went there. President Schneizel turned to them with a smile. Kallen made no effort to hide her suspicion. She just didn't feel like it. Suzaku did the honors.
"Congratulations for your promotion, President Schneizel."
"I appreciate it, Prosecutor Kururugi," he replied, nodding his head. "I also extend my congratulations: you're dancing with the most beautiful woman at the party. You're very lucky. I told you that you wouldn't have a problem finding a mate," he added with sweet courtesy. Kallen blinked in disbelief. Then she looked around in search of the woman. "Was he referring to her?" She pointed to her chest. Yes, it had to be. There was no other prosecutors Kururugi. The man smiled at her and showed her his palm. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss ..."
"Kallen Stadtfeld," she mumbled without leaving her stupor. She gave her hand and he leaned down to kiss her. She barely felt his lips. Did he really mean it? No way! He would have spent half his life taking care to say an authentic word.
"Kallen," he repeated. "Beautiful like a red lotus flower, perfect name for a beautiful woman," President Schneizel pointed out. If it was lies that came out of his mouth, why did her cheeks burn? Leaving that aside, he was the first Briton, rather, the first person to know the meaning of his name. The president shifted his gaze from Suzaku to Kallen. "And you are ..."
"Friends from college," Suzaku chimed in.
That wasn't entirely true. However, telling him that they were "colleagues" or "partners" or "old acquaintances" as they considered each other might be shocking.
"Oh! It means that the lady is a lawyer. It's good that you both keep your friends from college," he commented. "If you treasure them, they can last as long as life itself. Mr. Maldini and I are graduates of the same faculty…" he added, referring to his faithful assistant who was in absolute silence, with devout stillness, listening to the president.
Annoyed, Kallen took a deep breath and looked away. Everyone enjoyed the party. In the corridors, in the salons, before the buffet, the guests had spread out in groups or couples to chat, dance, flirt, and admire each other, themselves or the power that could afford such luxuries. In this visual tour, she saw President Charles chatting animatedly with some men. She felt the blood boil under her skin. Unconsciously, she began to move away from Suzaku and President Schneizel to go to where the Patriarch of the Britannia was. Kallen passed by a table and unnoticed she picked up a steak knife. She didn't stop when she accidentally bumped into a waiter, but just kept going. She seemed in a trance. Sensing that she was closer, she squeezed the handle of the knife. Just then, fingers closed around her wrist. Kallen came to a halt. It was like waking up with a bucket of ice water. Turning around, she came face to face with Lelouch.
"You?! What are you doing here?!" She muttered, twisting her wrist to free herself.
"I was invited like you, although the right question is what did you propose to do, charlatan?"
He asked in his unmistakable warm voice.
"Let go of me!" Kallen croaked, pulling her wrist toward herself once more.
"Enough, if you do that again, you'll hurt yourself," Lelouch advised in an ironically authoritative tone. "Were you planning to kill Charles zi Britannia? And after that? Go to jail?"
She knew he was right. Kallen hadn't acted with knowledge of what she was doing. Her body led her to that point and, in the same way, she had grasped that knife. It could be the festive bustle and the delicious nectar of the flowers that had transported her to an atmosphere similar to one of her dreams and she would have been carried away. Nevertheless, Kallen didn't want to give up fighting. She shot him a warning look and even though her voice sounded shaky with pent-up anger, he was perceptive enough to discover a painful undertone.
"You wouldn't understand!" She moaned. Her face, disfigured by suffering she couldn't put into words, turned red.
"I think I do," he whispered, squeezing her wrist tighter.
Kallen was about to kick his shin when she saw a dark cloud darken his expression. That stopped her and made her stare into his eyes as if it were the first time. She shed her pride and hostility towards him to search in them the answer to the question that posed in her mind: "What does he mean?". She was unable to formulate it out loud for a reason unknown to her. They stayed like that for a few more seconds until...
"Kallen, here you are! Don't get lost," Suzaku interrupted. Kallen dropped the knife and Lelouch caught it before it hit the ground. Sneakingly, he placed it on the table behind him. The prosecutor didn't notice. "Lelouch?" And he didn't as he only focused on his face, not his hands.
Kallen went away to catch her breath, but when she heard Suzaku call Lelouch by his name she turned her head.
"Lelouch? You know him?" She asked, puzzled.
"Yes," he agreed, taking in what was happening. "Have you already seen each other?"
"That's right," Lelouch confirmed. "I didn't know you knew Kallen, my old friend. This is a happy coincidence," he said, feigning surprise.
Kallen grimaced when she heard how Lelouch addressed Suzaku.
"Lelouch, what is it? Weren't we going to ...?"
Euphemia came like a star treading the earth. And so the couples came together. Kallen and Suzaku recognized the young Britannia immediately. They had seen it on television, digital portals and magazine covers. The media described her ravishing beauty as something extraterrestrial. He didn't give them too much credit, believing they were exaggerating. But now, having seen her, holding her in front of him, he was dazzled by her heavenly light. Euphemia gave them both a friendly smile in greeting. Suzaku, enraptured, handed it back.
"Excuse me, Euphie. I saw some acquaintances and went to greet them. This is Kallen and my friend, Suzaku," Lelouch pointed out. "And to you both, I want to introduce my companion, Miss Euphemia."
"Nice to meet you!"
"It's a pleasure"
Suzaku and Euphemia exclaimed in unison. The hilarious timing of their responses drew a chuckle from them. The end of the melody and, by extension, the first dance coincided with that moment. The room was filled with applause. For the next dance, the conductor asked the gentlemen to dance with a lady who hadn't come with them. Without further delays, it started a tango.
"May I have the honor?" Suzaku asked, reaching out to Euphemia.
The woman looked first at her partner, who shook his head, and then accepted the prosecutor's hand. The two of them stepped into the tight crowd of dancers. Kallen watched them in shock. Suzaku's action irritated her. Suddenly, she forgot the anger she felt against the lawyer Lamperouge and ventured in protests about something that had not bothered her as much as his words did appear.
"Did you see that?! They just abandoned us!" She screamed angrily. "Suzaku promised that he wouldn't leave me alone but he goes with the first pair of eyes that blinks at him, he didn't even look at me before telling her! Ah! Men!" He roared. "And, to all these, what did you mean when… ?!"
She turned to him. Nor was Lelouch attentive to what she was saying. She caught his penetrating gaze descending over her curves. Intimidated, her first instinct was to hug herself; for so expressive was his gaze that Kallen was struck by the impression that he was stripping her from his mind. She resisted that urge by crossing her arms under her chest to keep them calm.
"My body is fine," She grumbled.
"It is ..."
Despite her warning, Lelouch continued his reckless examination. That he said it in such a gentle tone, as if nothing was happening, fueled her nerves.
"I said my body is fine! My eyes are here!" Kallen snapped, unleashing her fury. She yanked him from the lapel of his jacket and grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Look at me!"
"I'm looking at you," he whispered with a mocking smile. It couldn't be. She was doing just what he wanted. She shoved him away and tucked an imaginary lock of hair behind her ear.
Kallen was flushed again. Of course, anger wasn't the cause this time.
"Do you find it funny?! Would you like other men or women to stare at you?! It wouldn't be as fun, would it?" Kallen sputtered. "Listen, I don't like being shot at. It's uncomfortable. I'll denounce you or maybe I won't hold back and give you what you deserve if I see you doing it again, is that clear?!"
"It is," he nodded seriously. "I promise I won't look at you like those men over there."
"What?!"
The redhead turned to see where the supposed men were. Lelouch held her by the elbow.
"Since our partners dumped us, would you dance with me?"
Was it a joke or was he really proposing? Be it one intention or the other, it seemed impudent to him. Since he was speechless, she was inclined to think he meant it. Although she wanted to send him to hell, something inside her dissuaded her. He was doing it on purpose to provoke her. He had been playing with her since they met, like the predator that stalked her food before pouncing on her, confusing her by turning constantly. Did bothering her bring him pleasure? Because she couldn't explain it to herself. The woman reasoned that refusing would give him a reason to mock or think she was afraid. She didn't want to suggest such an idea.
"You can dance tango, right?" Lelouch asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"What? Of course, I know!" She replied defensively.
"Will you dance with me, then?"
"Yes!"
Lelouch raised his eyebrows for a fleeting moment. He had launched that suggestion, to mislead his attention and prevent him from hitting some innocent men whom he pointed out in an effort to save himself from a slap. He believed her dislike for him would overcome her pride, but it didn't. Well, he couldn't take it back anymore. He overcame his surprise by adopting his best smile and they both entered the track where Euphemia and Suzaku entered.
Lelouch wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. The woman ignored the draft of cold air that crept up her back, grabbed his hand, and placed the other on his shoulder. They began to move in small circles in place as they sporadically swapped positions. Lelouch was the one leading. Kallen felt when her feet moved purposefully toward his and she had to move back quickly to avoid being stepped on. She wasn't sure she was getting it right, but she forbade herself to look down at him.
"Have you thought about my job offer?" Asked Lelouch.
"I told you I won't," Kallen answered curtly.
"And I told you not to answer me at the time," he replied.
Kallen snorted, unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. It was true. She hated that he always had a good answer for everything. She envied his agility of mind. They stopped at that point. Lelouch held her close to him, sending her a signal; Kallen interpreted it and wrapped his slim waist with her bare leg. They circled the room three times. As they stopped, Kallen doubled back for a moment and then slowly returned to her initial position, bringing her hand to her chest so as not to fall. As if taking on a life of its own, her hand slowly snaked up his chest. It reached his shoulder. Her leg got rid of his body and they resumed their previous steps, meanwhile their legs were intertwined in that continuous swing to the beat of the tango.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I can't accept your offer: my license was taken away a few months ago."
"It's okay. I'll hire you as a secretary," Lelouch announced, dismissing it.
"You don't know when to quit, huh?" She asked, stunned by his insistence. He said nothing. He supposed it wasn't worth it. "I want to ask you something," she blurted out in the tone someone used when something ruminated in their consciousness for a long time. "Why me? There are a lot of good lawyers and real secretaries out there, why are you getting into me?"
"Because you've passion. If you are going to defend the law, do it with enthusiasm. You're tenacious. You won't give up on customers. And you apply. It isn't every day that you find a lawyer who recites the articles by heart."
The woman faced him with her eyes. He was scorched by her eyes of blue fire. It was funny because fortuitously he was thinking about it. There was a certain sensuality in her, in her manner, in her way of being. Perhaps it was due to the determination of her movements. Kallen was sure of herself and she showed it in her words, she exuded it through her pores, he read it in her eyes. It wasn't too obvious when she walked, only a good observer would notice; instead, when they danced she exploited that underlying quality. Dancing with her was like dancing with a flame.
On the other hand, that wasn't the answer Kallen wanted to hear.
"Don't make fun of me: if this is because you saw that my mother is in the hospital and you know that I work in a pizzeria…, if this is out for pity…!"
The volume of her voice and the indignation increased with each word, she was going to get angry if he didn't stop her right away:
"It's not pity. I saw you defend that Japanese from a xenophobic attack. You could break those men's noses, and you solved everything using the law. You've a sense of justice."
"Did you see that?" Kallen asked as her jaw dropped. "I can't believe it! Don't you have any ongoing case and you are spying on me? Or do you have them, but you like to sneak a peek at me?"
Lelouch laughed inaudibly. She smiled at him, finally feeling triumphant. Now her feet were chasing his. Now it was she who led. He wouldn't keep it that way for long. He spun her on its axis numerous times until he placed his hands on her waist. He pulled her closer to him. The following laps were given together. The first two were slow. One was almost level with the ground. The third was much faster to the point that it took her feet off the surface momentarily. It was so sudden and violent that turn that she feared falling flat on her face. Although for some absurd reason, she sensed that her partner would never let it happen. He led her ahead of him. She rested her bare leg on his; while they retraced their steps slowly and held hands while their fingers linked.
"Do you like to talk when you dance?" Lelouch asked her.
"A lively conversation is better than an awkward silence, right?"
Their faces were separated by a few inches. Kallen was all he was looking at and she was the only thing he wanted to look at for the moment. He was surprised at himself. He leaned over her, brushing his forehead against hers. Kallen planted her feet back on the floor. Lelouch turned her around. She pressed her back against his chest. Still not letting go, he moved his hand to her hip. By accident, his fingers brushed the skin of her thigh, right where the cut of the dress began. Kallen's shoulders stiffened at the cold touch against his skin. She hid it by taking a deep breath. Lelouch slowly slid his hand from her hip to her waist. Kallen blew air out of her mouth. They moved in a lateral direction.
"So you have a woman in your apartment, you court the daughter of a tycoon, and as soon as she's gone, you look at me. You're that kind of man," Kallen commented dismissively.
"I don't belong to any class because there are no men like me. I'm above average," Lelouch whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her.
"Yeah, right," Kallen snorted sarcastically, ignoring the ascetic flirtation in his reply.
"I answered your question, are you going to answer mine?"
Kallen's skin turned like goose bumps as his lips brushed against her cartilage. A sigh escaped her. Irritated, she bit her lip. She caught a glance with him. They were so close again that their noses almost greeted each other with a caress.
"May I be honest with you? I'm not sure. As tempting as the offer is, I don't know if I'd like to have you as my boss".
He smiled. Not even seeing herself in her most vulnerable situation broke her character.
"At least you don't reject it," he said. "I'm not going to insist any more, but my offer still stands, so if you regret not accepting today: you still have a vacancy in my firm."
Instead of nodding, Kallen blinked. Suddenly, she saw herself inhaling the air that came out of his lungs and vice versa. Lelouch pushed his dance partner gently and changed the hand that was holding Kallen for the other that was pressing on her hip and pulled her towards him with a jerk. After turning over and over, she landed in his arms with her head thrown back and her arm draped over his shoulders. The dance is over. Everyone erupted in great applause, yet Kallen and Lelouch were locked in their bubble as if the rest of the world had vanished. They stayed in that position for a few seconds until he cleared his throat. Little by little, he straightened up. Kallen's legs shook when she got rid of him. It had been so many years since she danced that she had lost her practice. The redhead clapped her hands curtly, more out of obligation than out of desire. Her mind was still on the dance. They were both sweaty. The dance had drained their energies. And the sparkling light of the chandelier bathed them, intensifying the heat and shining the whiteness of Kallen's breasts. Lelouch gave him a mischievous smile and he discreetly shifted his sights.
"Black looks good on you. Use it more often," he said in a singularly husky voice. "I've to go now. I left Euphemia alone too long. It was…" Lelouch paused to register a suitable term in his mind. "Nice to dance with you."
Lelouch gave her one last smile and, without further ado, withdrew.
Euphemia and Suzaku were still together. Their dance came to an end before Kallen and Lelouch's. They didn't exchange words; although, they had fun to spare. They had connected well in tango and wanted to befriend even more. They agreed to meet with their respective partners where they were last seen. They weren't there. Far from being discouraged, they saw it as an innocent opportunity to talk to each other and make their wishes come true.
"You're the prosecutor Kururugi, right?" Euphemia asked, not holding back her curiosity. "You are the one is everyone talking about having received the award for the prosecutor of the year!" She exclaimed. He was going to answer, if it weren't for the woman stepping forward to retract. "Sorry, you must be tired of people saturating you with congratulations every day."
"Yes, a little," he admitted with a soft laugh. "What gave me away?"
"Nothing. I inferred it because sometimes I feel that way."
"Is being a daughter of Charles zi Britannia complicated?"
"Just like everything. It has its sweet side as well as its bitter side and on certain days the balance leans more towards one of the two and it is exhausting. I'm used to it," she replied with a smile. "Where do you think Lelouch and Kallen are?"
"That's a good question. They're probably at the buffet. I just hope they are together."
"And why wouldn't they be?"
"Well," Suzaku faltered. Answering that question would be how to get through a minefield. He didn't want to speak ill of any of them for being honest with Euphemia, so he weighed the words he was going to say. "Let's just say Lelouch's manners aren't always correct and Kallen gets impatient easily."
"Do you think he can say something that irritates her? Oh impossible! Lelouch is charming. He has been attentive to me and your friend looks nice, she is a very beautiful woman" Euphemia speaking about beauty was equivalent to hearing Einstein speak about physics or Napoleon about military strategies. Still, he couldn't deny it. Suzaku thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever dealt with, but having met Euphemia he entered into a dilemma. "Although I should stay quiet: you know them better than I do".
"Actually, Kallen is a colleague I highly esteem and, unfortunately, I distanced myself from Lelouch for years. He could have changed. Have you known him for how long?"
"Euphemia," called a booming voice. It was President Charles. "I need to talk to the prosecutor Kururugi. Wait at the buffet until we finish."
It was a direct order. Out of the corner of her eye, Suzaku and Euphemia exchanged a fleeting glance. He supposed that Charles zi Britannia's children were unlikely to oppose his wishes. Euphemia nodded measuredly, saying nothing and left them alone. It was time to have that talk.
"I'm pleased to see that President Schneizel sent you my message and he introduced himself ipso facto."
"What did you think of my speech?"
The question disoriented him. He didn't have to call him for that when so many could answer. Maybe he wanted to set the conditions before he dropped the bomb.
"True to the motto of your house," he answered curtly.
"Do you know it?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. He seemed to like her observation because his lips faked a smile.
"Sir, I doubt anyone who lives in Pendragon doesn't know it. Without pretending to be flattering, I like the family value that it encourages," Suzaku emphasized frankly. President Charles resumed his march with Suzaku on his heels. "My father said something similar to me once. It was a metaphor. He said that the Kururugi are like a bamboo stick: flexible and hard, however, a bamboo alone doesn't reach anything; on the other hand, when it sticks together along with others they make up a great forest. That way, you can admire its beauty."
"Your father's death was a disgrace. I was preparing ambitious plans for the future and for you. Although, he was determined, he wasn't a great man like your grandfather," President Charles pointed out, glancing at him over his shoulder for a second. They were climbing the steps that led to the upper deck. "An enormous responsibility rests on your shoulders: you're the last scion of the Kururugi and you could be the greatest."
"Greatness doesn't interest me," he clarified in a harsh tone he rarely used, one that implied that he didn't admit the right to rebuttal.
"Of course not, which is why I speak in terms of possibilities," President Charles roared. The harshness in his voice didn't daunt him. "You're committed to this country for a fight even bigger than a company: you want to free it from corruption and impunity," he declared. They had reached their destination and it was in that interval that he turned to him. Suzaku almost smashed into his body. Fortunately, he stopped short in time. "Coincidentally, it's one of the keys to my campaign, if not the most important, do you know that too?"
"Yes. Just as I know that the attacks on the Japanese increased just when in your speeches you delegated all the blame for our country's high crime rate to Japanese immigrants," Suzaku said sourly.
"Are you accusing me of something?"
For Charles zi Britannia to ask rather than affirm was the kindest gesture you could get from him. Naturally, the candidate smelled the insinuation. That question served as a warning not to continue on that course. If he hadn't coerced President Charles it was because he hadn't told him yet what he wanted him for and Suzaku was dying to know. Because of that, his response was conciliatory:
"No. I just present the facts."
"Another thing we have in common. I also present the facts in my speeches. You're a prosecutor, how many cases have you tried in which the culprits are Japanese immigrants or born to them? A young woman was shot to death by an immigrant with a criminal record. She was only twenty-one. She could have been my daughter. The home of a sixty-year-old man was raided and he was later shot in the brain by a gang member who had been arrested for robbery and deported five times. Tell me, prosecutor, what could a defenseless old man do against a gunman? Those are the stories I hear when I go out on the street. Nor do I want to talk about the refrain. That drug was created and trafficked by the Japanese themselves. Laws, reforms and government institutions are the ones to blame, not me," he explained. "I already started working on it: I met with the prosecutors general and we're designing strategies. To eradicate this situation, I want to work with the best prosecutors and make no mistake: you're one of them. Do you understand prosecutor Kururugi? Our goal is the same, therefore, we shouldn't treat each other as enemies, but work together," he sentenced. The prosecutor looked at him suspiciously. Charles zi Britannia smiled knowingly at him. His smile resembled a misshapen grin. "Union makes force." It was what his father told him.
"What makes you think I see you as your enemy?"
"I'm not a fool, Prosecutor," President Charles replied without losing his good humor. "You've been on the defensive ever since I spoke."
"I may not be too clever; however, I must admit your cunning, President Charles. Just when the media started calling you xenophobic, racist and presumptuous, nothing would favor him more than a prosecutor, descended from Japanese immigrants, to support you in your campaign," Suzaku muttered, sensing Charles's intention between the lines.
"Do you think so? I think you're the one who would benefit the most," he disagreed. "If you collaborate with me, you would receive more power than you could possibly achieve in thirty years. That's what you are really looking for.
"You're wrong," Suzaku hissed in a restrained voice.
"Foolishness! Everyone wants power; but not everyone dares to take it," President Charles affirmed. "The question is what for and I know that you need it to fight impunity and corruption. Don't misunderstand me. I'm with you since I know that you're not like other prosecutors. You would manage power properly. I have a good memory with the names of the people who are with me," he added emphatically. Suddenly, President Charles placed his hand on Suzaku's shoulder and whispered, fixing his stony gaze upon him, "I know you will decide wisely."
And so Charles patted him. When he took the oath of prosecutors, Suzaku had set a very clear goal in his mind: cleanse Pendragon of corruption, a purpose that he had conceived in the past. But that same corruption that he wanted to destroy was found in the very same justice system on avatars like the prosecutor Waldstein. President Charles's suggestion made sense. With power he could change the judicial system from within and progressively to the city. It was true! He needed power, becoming a district prosecutor, specifically, or magistrate. He could even jump into politics, why not? In his brilliant career, the sky was the limit. Reaching that position would take a long time. Unless he turned to the influence of Charles zi Britannia, which would never happen. He was part of the evil that was trying to end. The only question, the real one that had to be asked was: how eager was he to get that power?
Even if the prosecutor Kururugi had rejected his offer, it stirred in his heart something that slept deeply within him: ambition. It was a victory. Therefore, although Suzaku didn't notice it, the president walked away smiling.
After leaving Suzaku with her father, the beautiful Euphemia wandered around the room. She was reunited with lawyer Lamperouge afterwards. As none had renewed their strength and it hadn't been long since their last dance, they ruled out dancing, so the young Britannia proposed to introduce him to some of the party attendees. Lelouch seemed "excited" to meet influential people. The couple approached another who was talking in a secluded corner. It was lawyer Jeremiah Gottwald, the leader of the legal team serving the Britannia Corps, and the head of the police department's homicide unit, Villetta Nu. Judging by their intimate relationship, Lelouch sensed that they were good friends.
"We already had the honor of meeting," Jeremiah greeted him. "It's a pleasure to see you again, colleague, if it doesn't bother you, I would rather be allowed to address you. Something tells me that we will see each other more often."
He looked at Euphemia and then at him. The close relatiobetween him and Miss Li Britannia wasn't lost on him either.
"I've the same feeling, colleague," Lelouch replied with the same friendly tone.
"In my case, it's the first time I've seen you, but in the future, due to our jobs, it's possible that we'll see each other more than once," Villetta said.
"Sure," Lelouch smiled. "Like Lawyer Jeremiah. Please treat me with the same confidence as with him."
Another of the guests was the director of the Britannia Medical Center, Bartley Asprius. His hair had fallen out and he was wearing more expensive clothes. His linen tailcoat concealed his fatness, especially his hips and back.
"Britannia Medical Center? I'd better remember that name," Lelouch said, returning the handshake. "You know, in case an emergency happens we hope not."
"We'll gladly assist you. Any friend of Miss Li Britannia is welcome."
Lelouch nodded with a smile from ear to ear. The blandishes towards Britannia Corps of this subject was so excessive that, to himself, he wondered if his tongue had ever stuck to the roof of his mouth.
More guests still needed to meet. One of them was the face of Hi-TV: Diethard Reid.
"Hold up one moment! I've seen you," Lelouch indicated, holding his hand. The cheeks that stretched out the reporter's dazzling toothpaste commercial smile stiffened. "On the Hi-TV news channel. It's the presenter!"
Diethard breathed in relief.
"Ha, ha, ha! It's nice meeting my viewers." He laughed.
It would be redundant to note that this wasn't the first meeting between the journalist and the lawyer, but he didn't have to tell them. It was worth seeing the shock press in Diethard's heart for a few moments. It was deliciously funny, what secrets will he hide in his consciousness to make him react like this?
The Prosecutor's General, Bismarck Waldstein, was at the party. His absence would be unjustified. Euphemia introduced them. Prosecutor Waldstein was serious, but he knew when to smile gently. He displayed refined manners that would put European princes to shame.
"I found out you were recently promoted to prosecutors general. My sincerest congratulations," Lelouch congratulated him.
"Thank you very much, but those congratulations are premature: now my work as a prosecutor has begun. When we're sure of the fruit that these efforts have yielded, we'll be able to celebrate properly," the prosecutor replied.
If Lelouch didn't know him well, he would have deceived him with that false modesty, again. But Lelouch Lamperouge wasn't someone who tripped over the same stone a second time.
"And so it will be. They must have seen something in you to appoint you with that distinguished position," he flattered.
"I agree with you," President Schneizel added. "If there is anyone who is the right one for that position, it is Prosecutor Waldstein. Excuse me for interfering in your affairs, gentlemen, it isn't in my character to be a meddler; but I couldn't find another time to speak to you, Lawyer Lamperouge."
Of course, President Schneizel couldn't be exempt from the list of people Lelouch needed to meet and he was the one most eager to be introduced to him. That he had come on his own showed that the desire was mutual. Schneizel's thick hair was so golden that it seemed that his head was adorned with pure gold. It shone brighter than ever in the light of the chandelier. It fell to the nape of his neck. He had sunken cheeks, thin lips, a turned up nose, and a crafty gleam in his eyes. The sum of these traits gave the new president of the Britannia Corps a fox-like appearance that disgusted him on the spot. No more than his gestures and his tone. There was something about them that was artificial to him. He was unable to explain why he had that impression. He told himself that the more he interacted with him, the sooner he would find it out. The president was drinking a glass of red wine. Two men trailed behind him. Schneizel el Britannia was a man preceded by his good reputation. Lelouch has heard so many stories about him that they put him above the clouds, and yet he never manages to get the pleasure of meeting him. His position in the company automatically promoted him as his adversary, how fearsome was he? That was up to him to discover.
"Oh brother! I'm sorry! Euphemia cried. We were going to see you and an unforeseen event arose. Uhm! I think you both know who is who. I can save the introductions."
"Don't worry, Euphie. It's always better late than never," Schneizel told her fondly, turning to her.
Then he turned his attention to the lawyer. They studied each other.
"So the new president wanted to talk to me?" He asked with an innocent smile. To be honest, the president's initiative had flattered his ego. "I'm pleased to meet you. Even if you already know, I'll still introduce myself: I'm Lelouch Lamperouge."
He shook his hand. The gesture was mechanical, as if they hadn't done it for a long time.
"Same here," he confirmed, shaking his head affirmatively. "I wanted to express my gratitude to you for defending our Vice President, Mr. Taizo Kirihara. I knew that the first trial went well, when will the next one be?"
"In a couple of days. Don't worry, Mr. President! I've done this countless times. With the prosecutor's permission, I guarantee I'll win: I never bet on a losing case," he boasted.
"I like your safety, Lawyer. I'll trust that this issue is resolved".
Even though they weren't formally introduced, Lelouch recognized the identities of the men escorting Schneizel: Kanon Maldini, the Britannia Corps section chief, and Luciano Bradley, his bodyguard. Glancing furtively at him, the lawyer inevitably felt a spasm in his stomach. "When I kill someone, I cut myself a little. In part, to keep score, On the other hand, to remember it. Each brand is special, you know?". His heart sank and it seemed to him that he had become the little boy he terrorized seventeen years ago. While other children were frightened by the monster under the bed or closet, little Lelouch spent his entire life terrified by the image of a single man. His voice haunted him in his worst nightmares. Lelouch had to master the chaos of internal emotions. Luciano and Kanon's personalities and trades were like oil and water. However, the union of opposites was what struck the balance and made them work so well. The saying stated that you shouldn't let the left hand see what the right was doing were true. And both illustrated it perfectly.
So, Lelouch apologized to the president and Euphemia because he needed to wash in the bathroom. Lelouch felt dirty: he had greeted each of the guests with a handshake. Beneath the bombastic and sophisticated facade, he could see that the interior hadn't changed: they were just as he remembered them. Without exception, the people who perjured and rigged the judgment of seventeen years ago had prospered in their lives, thanks to the protection of Charles zi Britannia, standing out in their respective fields, a promotion at the cost of small favors and a few lies and cover-ups. The patriarch knew how to give back generously, the perfect deal. Not even the most extravagant perfume was capable of disguising the smell of fresh blood that so loved and filled the country. Pendragon bled iniquity. Luciano, Kanon, Bismarck, Bartley, Villetta, Jeremiah…. They all lost their names the day they made a pact with the Britannia Corps to become extensions of their power. In this way, Charles could control everything. Would they be aware? Did that matter to them? No, but it did to Lelouch. That disgusted him deeply. It made him gag. Lelouch turned on the tap, a powerful stream of water came out, and dipped his hands into the sink until the dumbbells on his suit were wet. He rubbed the soap into lather and rubbed across the back of his hands, between his fingers, and under his fingernails. It was rinsed with plenty of cold water. Still, he didn't feel clean enough and repeated the process in frustration; again, and again, over and over. Lelouch felt the headache of that afternoon return with greater force. In pain, he covered his face with both hands. At the same time, he felt an annoying itch in his left eye. It wasn't explained why. Anyway, he had to go now: he couldn't take it anymore.
Suzaku spotted Kallen at the buffet. She was drinking her third Manhattan. The waiter offered it to her. She had never tasted a cocktail in her life and the fact that it was red was a plus that made it impossible for her to refuse, so she told herself that she should drink one.
"Hey, Kallen! Here you are! I was looking for you." Suzaku smiled at her.
"If what worries you is that you stay alone, I promise you that I won't leave your side" Kallen said, trying to reproduce the exact tone in which Suzaku said those words.
"Are you angry because I asked Euphemia to dance?" Suzaku asked, wrinkling his forehead and drawing his eyebrows together. Kallen sipped another minimal amount of her cocktail. "I thought the order would be indifferent, I'm sorry," Suzaku apologized. Kallen kept avoiding his gaze. "Well, the night isn't over yet and I promised you that I would dance a song with you. Shall we?" He asked gently, holding out his hand.
At that moment a sentimental ballad was playing which meant that their bodies would be squeezed together as they danced slowly. Kallen flinched just as the image formed in her mind. She thought about it again. Arguing with him about it was like causing a storm in a glass. Nor did she want to spoil their night. It would be too childish. Even for a child. Therefore, she accepted the invitation. Once again, they went to the track. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Suzaku grabbed her waist carefully. Kallen couldn't suppress the little gasp that escaped his lips. He was aware of the position of his hands. Since it wasn't Lelouch, there was no conflict for her to lower hers gaze; however, when she fixed her eyes on him again, she felt strangely nervous. They were too close to each other. Then, they swayed slowly. Neither said anything for the first few minutes. They had surrendered to silence. Kallen decided to break it before her unease grew any more acute.
"How old friends are you and Lelouch?" Kallen asked him.
It was a question that had been eating into her since she found out and she preferred to ask Suzaku. In spite of everything, she had more confidence with him.
"Since we were kids at the school."
"You both were classmates. That explains everything. Uhm! Sorry to tell you," she hesitated, clicking her tongue," but you and him are so different that I don't understand how you guys could become friends: you're cordial, modest, idealistic, and sometimes deluded and clumsy." Suzaku smiled at her. Although those traits weren't exactly positive, from her tone he didn't think it was a bad thing. "And he's arrogant, cynical, proud, a liar and a womanizer. He believes that because he's very handsome, he has the right to do what he pleases. It's a Viper Tongue! And don't ever defend it!"
The giggle that Suzaku let out softened the emotions of Kallen, who was getting angry just thinking about him. In the end, both ended up unscrewed with laughter at the image of a Lelouch with a forked tongue.
"I wasn't going to do it. You're right. I, at that time, was selfish and quarrelsome. Different from what I'm now. The fact that my father was the president of a small company had gone to my head. Lelouch, for his part, was calm, generous, kind, and knowledgeable. Normal. He was a very smart boy. He got the highest grades and knew a little about everything."
"You're lying! You were a bully and Lelouch a good boy? That's a prank!" Kallen croaked skeptically.
"I'm telling you the truth. I won't judge you if you don't believe it. It was a cake fight in the dining room that brought us together in a room, during the hour of punishment, in which we realized that we had more similarities than differences. We were both dealing with our problems and, somehow, we felt less alone since we began to relate. From then on, we would meet in the schoolyard every recess and when waiting became unbearable, he would go to my house or I to his. We played superheroes and supervillains all day," he counted cheerfully. "Because I liked to show off, I played the role of the hero. Lelouch had to settle for the villain. I never heard him complain. I think he liked it."
"Like Megamind and Metroman?" Kallen asked caustic.
Suzaku laughed. They'd gotten so comfortable that they didn't realize how close they'd gotten until the two of them unconsciously straightened up. They turned slowly over where they were standing.
"No, like Superman and Lex Luthor," he corrected with a smile. "And how did you meet him?"
Kallen snorted lazily. Where to begin?
"Because of a misunderstanding with one of my pizza deliveries, I'm sure the pizza was correct and he lied. I don't know why he did it and I don't have proof, but I don't need it! I KNOW IT. I've wanted to shake it off since that damn day, but he insists on wanting to hire me for his firm."
Kallen spoke so fast that Suzaku had a hard time understanding everything at once. However, he did catch the latter and was quick to say:
"Did he do that? You must accept!" He encouraged her. The woman made a grimace, the same one that children make when forced to eat their vegetables for their sake. "You won't be suspended forever; didn't you tell me that you were fired from the firm where you worked? It would be nice if you rebooted at a law firm. Degraded lawyers often struggle when they return to work."
She didn't know how to reply. It was true. They both knew it. Kallen had made a promise and it hurt her not to keep it day after day. From time to time, she cried from the helplessness locked in her room, because she didn't want Ohgi or anyone else to see her. Lelouch was opening a door for her that thousands of law firms wouldn't. Concerned for her safety, Naoto had taught her martial arts, in case the situation demanded it. Too bad nothing she learned could help her with the cruelty of the world of work.
She had to make an unpleasant decision, beyond her prejudices, for the sake of her career and for the promise she had made.
Euphemia communicated to her brother that Lelouch had to leave because he felt unwell. President Schneizel regretted this, as he wanted to continue talking with him. He had a good impression of the lawyer, as expressed, much to the delight of young Britannia. In any case, it would have been impossible, because he was notified about an alleged witness in the case against the vice president for sexual assault. He didn't like having to be absent from these parties, but it would be rude not to go out to meet that visitor who left from his house to the mansion. Nor could he ignore that he was handling vital information that would be useful in the trial. That being the case, he went to receive it. He was waiting in the lobby.
"Oh, President Schneizel! How glad I'm to see you!" The man exclaimed. "Sorry for the inconvenience at this time. I know you are very busy, but it was urgent that I speak with you."
"Don't worry, good man," President Schneizel soothed. "Are you saying that you saw something in the parking lot where that terrible incident happened?"
"Yes, sir." He nodded vigorously. "I saw Vice President Kirihara come down the stairs, he was holding on to a young woman. Skinny and with big glasses, I think I remember. He seemed unstable. He walked stumbling. She helped him into the car and got out five minutes later with her clothes untidy and yelling for help."
"And why did it takes five minutes, do you think he couldn't abuse her?"
"Yes. I noticed that the vice president had a hard time keeping his balance. He could barely with his feet. How could he try to rape a woman under those conditions? Well, the crucial thing is that I saw the lady take off her shoes while running, isn't that strange?"
"If that's true, the vice president was framed," Schneizel reasoned. "However, I don't understand something: why did you come to me and not with the police? It's to them that you must tell this."
"It's just that I know your father, President Charles, and Mr. Kirihara are good friends. He would like to know that the vice president of your company isn't a sexual assailant," he clarified, laughing nervously and lowering his gaze as if to hide his little embarrassment.
President Schneizel gave an almost priceless nod of approval.
"So, for us to save our vice president, we've to pay you," Schneizel inferred.
"Well sir, I would only accept a small amount ..."
He nodded a second time.
"Alright" he confirmed in his velvety voice. "It's done: the integrity of our employees is a company priority. If you're kind enough to give us your account number, we'll make a transfer to you as soon as possible. For now it would be the best if you go home and rest. Let us discuss this in the morning when you are unoccupied so that you can meet with Mr. Kirihara's lawyer as soon as possible and can appear as a defense witness. I must not keep my guests waiting any longer. It's that okay, right? Mr. Maldini would do the transaction in front of you."
"That would be very nice, Mr. President!" He smiled.
"It's a closed business. Mr. Bradley, could you walk him to the driveway and make sure he gets to his car?" He asked, turning to his bodyguard.
"You're very kind. Thank you!"
Luciano complied without further delay and led the man outside. Lelouch, who had been observing the scene, sheltering in the shadows, followed them. He had to find out the license plate of that witness's car and memorize it. It was imperative to intercept him in the morning, before his meeting with Schneizel. Plus, if he didn't go out now, he wouldn't go out tonight. He was supposed to be gone. It's a pity. Have he stayed a little longer, he would have heard President Schneizel and Kanon talking as they returned to the party:
"I don't have to tell you what to do next, Kanon. You know it perfectly."
"Yes. I'll proceed right away if that's what you want."
"No, no, wait until the party is ending so your absence doesn't stand out. Now, remind me of something. My memory isn't as good with names as it is with faces. Is that woman named Stadtfeld the same one who was snooping around my company?"
"Yes. It's been six months since she lost her license."
"Poor woman, this year shouldn't have been easy for her." He sighed compassionately, shaking his head. There was no hint of irony in his voice. "With regard to lawyer Lamperouge, find out who he is, where he came from, why he's here, what about his past. I'm not a man who believes in ghosts and unless I have lost my mind, I'm sure that we have already met and if he's who I think he is ..."
Schneizel paused and parked. He reflected for a moment and resumed his course.
Without completing the sentence.
A / N: Alright, alright, that's been it for this chapter. The title honors the decisions Suzaku and Kallen must make in the face of the offers they make. If I'm not mistaken, I read somewhere that the Knights of Round was a special order that was created in the series so that Suzaku could somehow ascend and gain power. Being a prosecutor, it isn't necessary to invent anything. His path is laid out. Tell me, what do you think? Did it exceed your expectations? Originally this chapter belonged to the previous one; but it felt very, very long to me. You read it. By the way, one thing I want to clarify with you: you know that in the anime Charles has a lot of children; however, as this is a realistic world, polygamy is illegal (at least, in most western countries for trying to relativize) and since I didn't see any purpose or relevance that there were so many princes (they never explained to us what it was like the issue of inheritance, by the way), I took the liberty of modifying it. Now we can count on the fingers of our hands the children of Charles (in the end, what I did won't affect the plot of my fanfic or anime). Leaving that aside, I invite you to share your opinions of the chapter, what did you like the most? Will Kallen finally agree to work with Lelouch? What will Suzaku be willing to do for his ambitions? Will Lelouch manage to contact this witness before Schneizel makes his next move? What are you most looking forward to in the next chapter?
Lelouch vi Britannia orders you to keep an eye on this story update!
We'll meet in chapter five of Code Geass: Bloodlines: "Secrets."
Take care, roasted marshmallows! We'll read each other soon.